


A Sinking Memory

by bryar6



Series: Halloween Adventures [3]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Don’t worry everyone lives, Drowning, F/M, Heavy Angst, Not beta read because I wanted my beta reader to read this and hurt, Not exactly a happy ending but things are resolved, PG-13 for a single bad swear, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Witch Trials, character backstory, hehehehe, pre-toa, time skip, zouxie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27228355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryar6/pseuds/bryar6
Summary: Zoe happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong abilities in late 1600's New England. And this time, there's no one here to save her.
Relationships: Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan/Zoe
Series: Halloween Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979104
Comments: 15
Kudos: 26





	A Sinking Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mild description of dead people(not graphic), description of drowning, mild description of a starving character, broken bones, PTSD. No actual main character death. Blood mentioned once and somebody gets punched (rightfully). 
> 
> Also, I am aware that as far as we know, very few, if no, people were drowned during the Witch Trials, but I wanted something a little different so forgive my historical fallacies. I am aware that the witch trials were in the spring, so I just left the actual time of the year kinda ambiguous because I would have preferred to write it as fall but I am sort of a stickler for accuracy.

******* Late 1600’s New England **********

The cold chains around Zoe’s wrists dig into her skin and the bitter wind stings her face. Beside her, two other young women walk, eyes turned to the ground and expressions of fear burned into them. The man holding the chains yanks hard and Zoe stumbles forward. She glances around, seeing the dark glares of the townspeople all around her. 

Murmurs of small children lining the path fill the otherwise silent air. It’s been a cold spring with a disappointing harvest in the fall, meaning a noticeable lack of food for the townspeople. The sound of frozen ground crunching under their feet only reminds Zoe of what’s to come next. Her ragged dress flutters around her, the air cutting right through the threadbare cloth. She shivers and trudges on. There’s the sound of a bubble of water growing louder as they walk on, what’s usually a dry creek now flooded by early snowmelt. 

They’re dragged down to a small pond, but Zoe knows it’s more than deep enough. Her chest fills with a horrible heaviness as she sees the rocks with large iron hooks sunken into them, knowing the chains around her wrists will connect perfectly to them. The other two women are crying, tears pouring down their faces. 

Zoe knows they’re completely innocent, and there’s going to be nothing she can do to spare them from this awful end. That feels like a secondary anchor on her body and she slouches forward further, like the iron is already doing it’s job of killing her. Zoe clenches her fist and tries to feel her magic in her hand, but it feels so faint and beaten down. It’s been about a day since she was last hungry, and the thirst was probably making her mildly delirious by now. She imagines she could count her own ribs if she wanted. She doesn’t think she could cry even if she wanted to. 

But on the other hand, Zoe isn’t innocent. She was caught doing actual magic. Granted, all she’d done was simply coax a candle into lighting between her finger and thumb. She was the only actual guilty one, and of course it had gotten out of hand, the townspeople blaming all three of them for the poor weather and the inability to grow anything. Zoe regrets not being able to do much about it and not having run when she had the chance. She’d thought she could reason with them. And she’d been wrong. Her fatal mistake. She should have trusted her instinct. She’s already been chased with torches through the woods just a year ago, further down the coast. Zoe mentally kicks herself for not knowing better. 

Slowly, and wordlessly, the three of them are chained to their rocks and marched down a dock that cuts out into the center of the pond. It was built specifically for this purpose. There’s no other reason for it in this tiny pond. Zoe’s eyes scan the crowd. Not a single friendly or familiar face is there and her heart aches. She knows he isn’t around. He was supposed to be here over a week ago so they could move on together. She doesn’t know where he is or what’s happened. He won’t know what becomes of her, and Zoe regrets that this is how it has to end. 

The first woman’s rock is tossed into the black waters and she’s ripped from the dock, nothing but a gasp escaping her before the splash. Zoe can’t tear her eyes away from her panicked face as she disappears to the depths. The other woman is next and she struggles and screams. Zoe can’t even muster a sympathetic look as she follows the first, long black hair fading fast in the pond. The man next to her lifts Zoe’s stone. 

She meets his cold eyes for a long moment, hoping that this will convey everything she needs to say to these despicable people. But his face is indifferent and unmoving as he tosses her rock with a heave, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Zoe’s wrists and ankles jolt and there’s a cracking noise, followed by a severe shock of pain. She gasps out in agony, only barely able to close her mouth before she’s pulled under. Air escapes her lungs and is filled in turn with water as she struggles in the freezing pond, the rock sinking steadily despite her fighting. She throws herself against the chains and kicks her feet but if it makes a difference, Zoe can’t tell. She manages to use her last breaths to force out the words of a spell. She chokes, throat tightening. 

And the tension is released. She coughs the water out, and gasps in a breath of actual air. The spell had worked, miraculously. But it had sapped the last of her strength, and she knew it was a very limited reserve of air. She slows her breathing, trying to gain control. The rock hits the bottom, feet and wrists going quickly numb between the pulling and the shockingly cold water. She turns and looks around, hair floating around her face. 

The two pale faces of the other women are already hauntingly still. They hang there, limp and moving slightly with the current. The sight makes Zoe feel instantly sick to her stomach. She turns away and forces herself not to retch. If she could, she’d be crying now. Instead, she tries to move her wrists and tries to summon a jolt of magic into the chains. She has to get out. 

She’s met with an electric shock the likes of which she’s never felt before in her life. She screams out, the energy pulsing in her body before dispersing. _Water and lightning magic don’t mix. Nice to know before I die._ Her whole body feels like it’s on fire for some excruciating moments, but it fades and leaves her in a numb ache. 

The moments drag themselves out, the cold seeping into her bones and steadily freezing all of her limbs. It means the pain goes, but Zoe knows this is a bad thing. She tries another spell to warm herself. Nothing changes; she has nothing to draw from anymore. _Maybe I should have just let it happen naturally. There’s clearly no difference in the end._ She casts her eyes to the faint light above, trying to figure out what things she wants to think about as her mind succumbs to the blackness. 

_I’m really sorry, Douxie. There’s a lot I wanted to tell you. And to do with you. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to have adventures and hunt monsters and have fun again. But I suppose in the end things just don’t work out that way. I’ll miss you. Please move on without me. I know you’re strong enough. You’ve always been,_ she thinks to herself, straining to keep her eyes trained on the shimmering surface only some feet above her. She has no idea how much time has passed; in this strange little world, it’s as though time does not exist and her relationship with it is merely some foriegn concept. She might have been down here for a year, she thinks, if not for the unchanging light above her.

Zoe’s eyes flutter and she feels everything getting faint and black. Her lungs aren’t drawing in air anymore. She feels sleepy, like she should lay down...Sleep would be so nice. Just for a moment…

The light above her is disturbed, distorting her last sight of it. She feels a vague annoyance at this, because why would the Universe be so cruel to take that away from her? But it doesn’t last. She closes her eyes to it and relaxes. The pressure around her ankles and wrists releases and she feels strangely weightless. The last things she feels are the chill fingers of Death pulling her away, a gentle hand against the back of her head. 

She can rest at last.

**************************

Douxie bursts from the surface of the pond, sucking in deep breaths, coughing loudly. He kicks his feet and paddles with an arm. He grabs the dock with one hand, using it to guide himself back to the bank. His other arm is under Zoe’s limp and cold form. Her head rocks against her chest and her face is serenely blank. He staggers through the shallows, the cold seeping into his body and the wind quickly freezing the water on his skin. He falls, knees digging into the harsh sand. He pulls her frail body out of the water and manages to get her up onto the brittle grass. He collapses beside her for only a moment, spitting out a mouthful of water, before jumping up and placing a palm against her face.

There’s no response. He cups her face and turns her head, brushes her matted hair off of her face. He moves his mouth but no words come. The fear creeps into his muscles and bones and his hands begin to shake. 

“Zoe, Zoe please, please,” he chokes out. There’s no pulse under his fingers. She’s unbelievably cold and he refuses to accept this. He shakes his head, water flinging off his hair, and collects his thoughts. He presses his palms against her chest and begins to press rhymically and hard, grimacing at the sounds of breaking bones under the pressure. He pinches her nose and breathes into her mouth, and then resumes the compressions on her chest. Tears pour down his cheeks. He doesn’t feel the cold anymore. 

“Please Zoe. Please come back to me. I can’t lose you,” he sobs, dark hair falling into his eyes as he looks up to the sky. “I need you.” 

********************

Zoe wakes up, feeling unusually stiff. She knows her bed is far from comfortable, but this is...different. Must have slept strangely. And she’s still in her day clothes, she judges from the feeling of the rough material on her skin. But something isn’t right. No, she thinks, this is actual pain. And she feels like she’s drowning. 

Her eyes fly open and she splutters, cold water dribbling from her mouth. Rough hands roll her onto her side and all she can hear is a quiet crying and her own choking. She retches, whatever is left of the water in her lungs or stomach gone now. Everything hurts. Her ribcage, her wrists, her ankles, her head. And she feels like she’s been turned to ice. 

Finally, she manages to move her head and look around her. She blinks, trying to clear her vision. A pair of arms encircle her, attached to a shaking and shuddering body. 

“Zoe, oh Zoe,” he breathes, arms around her tight. Everything hurting in her body howls in agony. “You’re alive, oh, Mordrax’s Miracles. Thank everything that’s good in this world.” 

She doesn’t fight his grasp despite the pain, but takes in a shaky breath. “Douxie?” 

He moves back enough to look into her eyes. She studies him closely. He’s shirtless, his own equally skinny and pale frame a stark contrast to the dark that’s settling in. His eyes are practically glowing but he looks gaunt and exhausted. His hair is plastered to his face and water drips from his skin. “It’s me, Zo.” 

Douxie presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. She focuses on the feeling, trying to distract herself from all the pain. She can feel his magic rolling off him in emotionally charged waves. 

“I- I’m cold,” she stutters out. He pulls back and nods. He holds his arms before him and begins to mumble a spell. He touches two fingers to his lips and then presses them against hers. 

“Calor deferat,” he says, touching his fingers lightly over her heart and withdrawing. “Are you alright?” 

Zoe relaxes as her limbs begin to fill with a pleasant warmth again, soothing her. She closes her eyes and sinks into the support of his arms. She can barely think. His skin grows warmer by the second, too, fueled by some other spell he must have conjured. Or perhaps he just drew on his magic, if he had enough reserves to pull from. She realizes he can probably tell she has none to speak of. 

“I think.” She realizes now that she is very much not dead, but it doesn’t change that she feels like she’s gone to hell and come back. Maybe she had. “You saved me.” 

“You have no idea how glad I am that I got here when I did. I was so scared I was going to lose you, Zoe.” She sees the glistening tears on his face now. “I really thought you were gone. Don’t ever do that again.” 

“I thought so, too,” she whispers. She presses her ear to his chest and listens to his heart beating steadily in his chest. Her eyes scan around the pond, no one to be seen. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should have been here,” he says. She hears him sniffle, his voice cracking as he speaks. “If I’d been any later…”

“You’re here now.” 

“I know. I know.” He rocks her slightly, pressing his face into her hair and holding her so gently. He’s wracked with sobs again. “Oh, Zoe.” 

A light snow begins to fall, dusting them like two fallen angels clinging to each other in the cold. A pair of wing beats grows nearer and soon a familiar furred creature presses himself between them, dragging a large blanket over their shivering bodies. Zoe listens to his purr and the beat of Douxie’s heart, thanking her lucky stars silently. 

*********** October 31st, 1960’s, Southern California ************

Zoe moves around a couple of partygoers, trying to avoid getting in the way. She moves down a dock to where Douxie stands, chatting with a couple of others about the new dance hall being built in town. It reminds her that they’re in the middle of trying to learn a couple new partner dances. Not that it will be difficult; they’ve been teaching each other to dance for centuries. Hell, maybe they would be practicing now if it weren’t a Halloween party. She supposes she has to get in some socialization somehow. 

“Zoe! Oh, look at you,” comes a voice from behind her. Zoe turns, seeing a couple of familiar faces. They’re two other witches who she and Douxie had met over the years, but she’s not particularly fond of them. 

“Hey!” she hugs one of the women, and waves to the other, but it’s really just an act. Zoe can’t recall their names. Both are flushed and a little tipsy, by the looks of their staggering. 

“Why won’t you go in?” asks one of their male companions, pointing at the group of young adults splashing in the water below them. He and the two women are dripping wet from the lake. He tips his head, eyes narrowing a little. She catches his eyes with uncertainty. 

Zoe’s chest clenches in fear just thinking about it. “Just don’t feel like it.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it’s just a little water. Ain’t gonna hurt you, baby,” he slurs. She cringes, about ready to go tuck herself under Douxie’s arm in defense. 

“I know, I know. But I’m all set.” She sighs and turns around, starting to walk towards Douxie again. Before she can register it, a pair of heavy hands have landed on her shoulders and forcefully shoved her. She stumbles and trips, her feet catching on the splintery wood. She falls and throws her arms up, but she’s met with the surface of the lake instead of the harsh wood dock. Her head is quickly submerged and she sucks in water as panic sets in. 

She flails wildly, heart thundering in her chest. In her fear, she can’t seem to focus her efforts onto anything in particular and begins to sink lower. Someone dives in, their strong arms wrapping around her waist and dragging her to the surface. Douxie pulls her up onto the dock and throws himself beside her. She coughs, trying to suppress all the awful thoughts and memories, feeling her body shaking violently already. All she can think about are those faces, the image forever burned into her mind. It makes her feel sick. 

Douxie touches her face gingerly, ensuring that she’s okay. His eyes ask a million questions, the most important, _are you okay?_ She manages the smallest of nods and he leaps up and grabs the guy by his collar before he can run off. A few people nearby laugh nervously. 

“What the fuck was that?” Douxie spits, pressing himself right up into his face. Zoe tenses at the sound of Douxie’s voice tinged with fury. “Huh? Why’d you shove her in?” 

“I was just having some fun,” he protests, trying to pull away. Zoe watches Douxie tense and feels a thick magic in the air as his emotions swell. 

“Really? ‘Just having some fun’ -- you have no idea the amount of pain you just put her through. You want to apologize now or after I’ve broken your face?” Douxie’s knuckles are ghost white and his glare is so intense Zoe can’t look at his eyes for long. She notices that Douxie’s thin shirt shows the faint glow of his tattoos underneath. 

“Dude, chill out, look, she’s fine-” he says, waving his arms. He never finishes because Douxie’s fist has collided solidly with the guy’s nose and he stumbles back, clutching his face. By now, the partygoers have stopped talking and are watching this go down. 

“Get out of my sight.” Douxie breathes, shoulders heaving. Douxie shoves him away. The man looks up at him, blood beginning to seep through his fingers clamped over his nose. “Now.” 

The guy who had shoved Zoe in throws her one last annoyed look before turning and shouldering his way back down the dock and past the stunned bystanders. Douxie turns around and helps her up, checking her arms and face for injuries. 

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Douxie has gone from about to actually murder someone to concerned and anxious in an instant. He brushes her wet hair from her face. 

“I’m fine, Doux. Just a little shaken,” she says. It’s a severe understatement. The panic hasn’t even begun to wear off yet. Douxie sees this and grabs a nearby towel and pulls her into his chest, embracing her briefly. 

“Okay. Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” Douxie guides them back to the shore, keeping a hand around her the whole way. They make it back to her car and he settles her into the passenger side. He slips into the drivers side and adjusts the seat before slamming his fists against the steering wheel a couple times.

Zoe holds out a hand and touches his arm. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s all over now.” He meets her eyes with clear pain behind them.

“It’s not alright, Zoe. People like that are awful. I should have done so much worse. You don’t deserve that.” His face twists up in anger again and he throws his head back against the headrest. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears fall on his cheeks and she pulls him across the bench seat. He wraps his arms around her and lets out a sigh. Zoe’s heart rate slowly falls again and she recalls focusing on his heartbeat all those years ago after he’d pulled her from the pond. She lets herself fall back on that, trying to time her breathing with his. They let the silence say everything for them. 

After a long while, he pulls away and starts the car, turning the radio on quietly and pulling down the lane and onto the road. But he never once lets go of her hand as he drives them home.

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually really enjoyed writing this one but I'm gonna be nice to you guys and the next one will be like tooth-rotting fluff, so don't you worry about it. Let me know what you thought and feel free to yell at me for the angst in the comments! :)


End file.
